


Don't listen to me, I'm nothing but trouble

by kalika_999



Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [46]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Confessions, Conflict of Interests, Empathy, First Time, HYDRA Husbands, Internal Conflict, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mental Link, Oops, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Psychic Bond, Self-Worth Issues, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 12:48:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16018244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: All those stories he heard before he was even transferred.  Little whispers in his ear in the locker room about what the Commander likes to do if he’s got his eye on you.  Secure your foothold with HYDRA in another way.  Jack was all up for it when it came to him, he didn’t mind adding another notch in his bedpost especially for Brock Rumlow of all people.





	Don't listen to me, I'm nothing but trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently its soul bond, not soulbond. I'm not changing it. :P

“Hold on, jus wait a second..”

Jack freezes, drawing back a little and refraining from making any expression of how he felt right then. His heart’s beating much too fast, face misted in sweat as he tries to wrangle in his breathing. His fingers drop away, slick with a little too much lube as he felt it run down his wrist. 

He kept his shoulders tense, body taut for more words as he sat kneeling at the end of the bed between Brock’s legs who was sprawled out naked and begging for him to do something not a few minutes ago. Face flushed and lips bitten-bruised despite his eyes suddenly looking a little wary among all the hunger and need.

“What?” Jack asks and it comes out maybe a little desperate, a little breathless. He closed his eyes as he took a few seconds, usually not as unsteady as he was then but Brock laid out like he was had him in all kinds of knots, bound with temptation to just take what he wanted. A part of him wonders if Brock’s aware of the effect he has on interested parties. He’s heard things; some are rumors while others are just moments of weakness over their Commander that they’d never admit to the man’s face in fear of being painfully reprimanded. Here though, he’s with Jack, the one who’s making Brock quiver and tremble under careful and expert fingers. He does it slow and takes Brock apart, stretching him while marking every available inch of skin, completely pliant to him. 

“What?” Jack asks again, his tone tighter, wrangling control back in and allowing himself to sound even. It’s not completely set in the way he wanted but Brock seemed too distracted with something else to notice. The last thing he needed was to give Rumlow an inch so he takes a mile and tonight Jack isn’t about to let the control go. 

Despite how close they are like this, Brock can’t look at him. He turns his face away more when Jack leans a bit to get his attention and for him to say _something_ , only pressing against the pillow next to the one he’s laying on, whispering something as quietly as he could into it.

“Brock, I can’t hear what the hell you’re saying.” Jack grounds out, annoyance laced in his voice. His whole body feels like it’s stuck in a lurch, irritation compiling as he tried to keep himself together. 

Brock had been so enthusiastic, bending to his will and amenable to whatever Jack wanted. His body was honed to him the moment he realized the Commander had an interest that was more than professional. When they finally got to this point, Jack wanted to savor it, taking more time than he needed and listening to all the little noises Brock made that he knew the man would deny later. It didn’t help Jack that Brock was a sight to see, full of venom and lit with a fire out there but here, he looked almost soft and vulnerable. Jack almost felt bad for it. _Almost._

It takes a moment for Jack to realize Brock was still speaking; low tones barely picked up as he tried scrambling mentally to put together what he had missed because Brock was rather good at distracting him, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. It’s only the last line that comes out clear to him where Brock says, “M’sorry I didn’t tell ya.” 

“Tell me what?” He asks tersely before he can help himself. He knew he sounded like an asshole but then, wasn’t that what Brock liked? “I didn’t hear what you said.” 

“I,” Brock pauses. He glances up to the ceiling as though looking for some sort of reassurance this won’t end badly and then diverts his eyes back to the bed. “I ain’t ever- ”

Frustration fills Jack’s entire being, so poised and ready just minutes earlier but now he only ached and felt entirely restless. He runs his other hand through his hair and down the side of his face with a sigh and catches Brock’s attention to it, following it with that fascinated fondness he’s seen when Jack catches him. It’s like Brock wishes he could do it instead which is wholly out of character to who he portrays himself as in front of the team. 

“What’s going on?” Jack asks more firmly, their eyes meeting. “You ain’t ever, _what_ exactly?”

The longer he stares into Brock’s eyes, the more his pomposity slips away and he’s left seeing the amount of vulnerability in him that actually is there. He hates it, like a pressure pushing on Jack’s shoulders until his body immediately deciphers what the issue is between them when all he wanted was some fun tonight. Fun that Brock had completely initiated, presenting itself like all those stories he heard before he was even transferred. Like little whispers in his ear in the locker room, about what the Commander likes to do if he’s got his eye on you. Secure your foothold with HYDRA in another way. Jack was all up for it when it came to him, he didn’t mind adding another notch in his bedpost especially for Brock Rumlow of all people. He had heard other things too, the stories he knew of him being a hardass with a bite that was worse than his bark, a man that wasn’t afraid to meet his maker and spit in their face. That he’d be into some terrible shit you may not be into. Jack was ready for whatever Brock had in mind.

Suddenly though, as all these thoughts raced about in his mind, it hits him.

Brock’s never done this. He would be his _first_. 

The abrupt spike of adrenaline chased with lust is overcome with a sense of possessiveness Jack wasn’t sure he had in him. He never really experienced those types of sensations all in one go but then no one has been on his radar in this way either. Sure he’s _pretended_ there has but it was his way to adapt and blend in with what others wanted, it was a way to be seen and he had a reputation he never bothered fixing since it seemed to work well at the moment. 

Jack’s eyes flick back down to the form below him, he should have known better than to be one of those people believing a rumor. Somehow this was much better than climbing the ladder by fucking his Commander whenever he was summoned for it; wrapping Brock around his finger like a puppet seems like an ideal way to cut out competition for his attention. Brock’s already surrendering himself physically, it’d only be a matter of time before it was done mentally and with this new bit of information it seemed he was technically in a process with that as well. Jack would work in the shadows like he always did and no one would be the wiser. He’s contently fine with keeping Brock for himself and showing him things he’s never experienced; the deeper he’s allowed to delve the more he’ll be able to control and that leads to information.

“You’re really a virgin?” He’s trying to sound casual about it, hide the eager excitement at the concept that he’s untouched by anyone until now. Brock’s eyes stare at him like he’s attempting to read him, assess him like a mission prior to touching down but Jack’s always been hard to get close to, likes it better that way. He especially doesn’t want Brock to notice his intensity shifting to something darker, maybe deeper..a level of possession that may be too much to consider. “No other surprises?” 

Brock manages to roll his eyes, obviously expecting more than that when he was admitting his dirty little secret; the sheen of sweat still glinting with the sparse twilight. Pursing his lips with mild annoyance, Brock frowns. “Nah, jus figured. Rumors and shit goin’ ‘round that I like playin’ with the fresh meat. Far fuckin’ from it, normally.” 

Considering what this all means in terms of their interactions with each other, he realizes Brock’s trying to say that he likes him, on some level he supposes. He stares down that hard lined body and the slow way Brock’s stomach rises and falls, his cock twitching ever so painfully over the agonizing delay and tempting him in so many ways he hadn’t even thought about. “Well, all that’s about to change.” 

There’s something in the way Brock’s breath hitches to that, the way he bites at his lip and stares at him like he’s special; Jack has to shake those thoughts out because _he’s not_. He’s known that for a long time, way before he’d even laid eyes on Rumlow. It was how life went and how it was always going to go for him. He wants to kiss those lips though, already bitten red by Brock himself and slick with saliva. 

He’s still trying to figure out how they got to this point without pressing their mouths together, especially if Brock’s telling him the truth, though he does believe him because what would be the gain in lying about that? One second they were talking, another they were in bed and taking off each other’s clothing, the middle is muddled to say the least and he hates that he lost that fraction of time with no reasonable excuse. He always just had one rule about hook ups and that was: never on the lips.

It’s then that Jack leans forward and kisses him, Brock repeatedly beckoning him with his half lidded eyes that never look away. He grips at hips, bodily pressing him against the mattress, the kiss messy and careless but he doesn’t notice with fingers tangled into his hair and this strange sensation that Jack’s falling over and over again.

When they simultaneously pull apart, panting and eerily aware something’s changed between them that at least Jack can’t figure out, it’s Brock that reacts first from it, blinking as he stares harder at him, eyes almost pinched in a squint before brows raise in wonder. He’s stunned, lips parted to speak but it takes a long moment before he actually does.

“Shit, it’s so strong.”

“What is?” Jack mutters, mildly irritated at the way an odd sensation courses through him and makes him feel strange, distracted even. A change is overcoming he didn’t anticipate and he hates that, leaning in to catch Brock’s mouth again to try and dispel it despite not having the kiss returned. 

“No, no..I- ” Brock pauses when Jack pulls back to glare, mouth curled up in amusement at him, maybe awe as well, “I can feel it, feel _you_.” 

“What?” There’s an impression of his facade slipping slightly, Brock smirking up at him and it slowly shifts into an understanding smile. _He’s realized something-_ Jack notes as he’s distracted with a crawling feeling along his skin. It’s not uncomfortable, it’s just _there_ like a second layer stretching along his own and new threads begin stitching themselves to him which he finds confusing. There’s something in Brock’s eyes, too tender and gentle, a stark comparison to when he’s out there barking orders and surveying territory for their next move. A couple of ticks and Jack realizes it’s a sort of _longing_ he’s not sure he understands. The word actually speaks to him in his mind before he knows what he’s looking at and blinks it away, still unsure of what’s happening right now.

Brock keeps staring at him, _searching him_ and Jack suddenly feels entirely naked. Not that he isn’t already but this is in a whole different way and it’s then that he realizes what they did. He slides his hand along Brock’s torso, feels what he enjoys, knows now that the millions of voices in that man’s head are quiet just for him. His fingers continue to touch along Brock’s chest and he sees a flashback of himself, image clear like he was staring into a mirror, introducing himself to his new commander and it’s clearly the day everything goes quiet for Brock. Everything makes _sense_ now and Jack sees that while he watched Brock, Brock had been watching him.

“How the hell did we end up bein’ soulbound together?” Brock breathes out, still staring and studying him, he’s asking but Jack’s sure he doesn’t really care for the answer.

He’s uncomfortable being so exposed, it’s like someone keeps observing without his knowledge and it makes him nervous, he’s not exactly sure what Brock’s already seen either, but he shouldn’t be rifling around.

Attempting to school a look of disapproval, Jack knows he fails in it when Brock only raises a brow up at him. “Quit doing that.”

“C’mon, did ya ever think- ”

“I don’t know what I thought but there’s other things I wanna do besides searching each other now that we found out who the other was made for. That can be done later.” Jack tries his best to sound sour but Brock seems to know better, seems to relish in annoying him now that he’s able to emotionally feel him out.

Brock shows him mercy and pulls him in closer, encouraging Jack to rub against him, grind his hips down and sense both what he feels and what Brock is experiencing; it’s overwhelming at first. He knows from things he’s read that bonds require closeness, but this is so quick and an overload of stimulation. He feels parts of him that he’s buried away suddenly begin waking up, slowly but they will and he knows how he’ll begin to feel every little thing Brock feels. It’s already happening at such a fast rate but soulbonds are what they are, for always and forever, and just for each other. Of course there are means to break it, he knows, he’s _seen_ it but he wants to keep him and Brock wants to stay. (He knows that too, shit.) It’s just that before..

“Come on..” Jack exhales, he’s not sure if he’s begging or if the words swirling in his head with Brock’s voice is the one doing it but one of them is, hips rocking out of simple instinct and looking for any sort of friction. 

“What if I’ve changed my mind now and said no? Say that I wanna get to know my soulbond and drag everythin’ on to see who I’m dealin’ with in my life now? What’d ya do?”

“You won’t.” Jack mumbles because as much as Brock can feel him, he can also feel the nervous thrum of excitement sweeping through that’s coming from Brock. He takes a moment to admire the way those lashes look as he’s staring up at him.

“But still leaves the question of what if I did?” It’s curious and Jack finds he’s being entirely serious, watching Brock’s hand reach up and softly run through his hair, delicate and light as he can feel him poking into his mind. “I already found out you planned all this for your own gain, I’m not upset about it since you seemed to change your mind- ”

Jack’s eyes narrow, “I never- ”

“Wouldja force me? I can already feel that yer thinkin’ ‘bout it. Wantin’ me so badly that you’re already picturin’ us doin’ it but no, ya wouldn’t would you? Want me to want you jus as much, it’s..” Brock bites his lip in thought, taken aback by the sudden realization, “It’s important.” 

“ _Stop_.” Jack grounds out. 

He doesn’t like this, sharing this link with someone else, this _soulbond_ with a person he’s been under the command of and hoping he could gain an upper hand from; and yet he can’t stay away either. There was always something drawing him to Brock, more than the way they just manage to click and now he understands why. 

“I wondered the same thing.” Brock murmurs, fingers brushing along his shoulder. “I couldn’t explain it but ya wouldn’t get outta my fuckin’ head.”

Words fail to come out as Jack stares back at Brock, he keeps wanting to say something, stop this because everything is suddenly complicated in his straightforward life but it’s like he’s choking on them instead of having them help him and Brock tilts his head up to kiss him hard, almost violently. He knows from the sharp stinging pain that they’re both going to be sporting sores and bruises in the morning. He’s met with a soft laugh and they draw back to stare at each other noting he’s right about his lips and sure he’s looking equally as bad but it’s the expression in Brock’s eyes that stops him from making any comment. They’re honey-kissed and almost a copperish color that he’s seen almost every day but now, he is now entirely something else he can’t describe and he wonders what Brock sees in his. 

“I see nothin’ beyond the pine. Get m’self lost in ‘em.” 

Jack blinks in surprise and quells all his worries for now.

“Huh.” Brock whispers under his breath, blinking slowly, refusing to take his eyes away and Jack watches him swallow, lips parting slightly.

Snapping out of whatever lull he had lost himself in, Brock drops his eyes, “Doesn’t matter either way, I want you to do it.”

He watches as Brock wiggles into a better position beneath him, lifts his chin a bit to look more tantalizing even if Jack doesn’t need to be encouraged, it helps at least. There’s something in Brock’s eyes though, slightly cautious and a little vulnerable. It causes something within him to jump, to grip around his heart, tongue darting out to lick his lips nervously as he stares, fondness sinking into every surface of his skin. Brock’s eyes flick away as he searches across the span of nothing before they’re staring at each other and Jack realizes he feels the sensation too, the change in the air as he loses grip with the control he tries to keep a tight hold of.

“This is crazy.” He rambles. His voice sounds breathy, lost. Leaning down, he kisses Brock again just to feel his lips again, unsure of what to say anymore while Brock only gives back just as much.

Closing his eyes, Jack feels eyes stay on him as they share more kisses and fingers graze along sweat shimmering skin. He’s wrapped in a kind of bubble made only through their shared bond and it causes him to answer to that possessive instinct more because of it. It’s all overwhelming to process after so much of his time has been by himself doing things on his own.

_It’s fucked up, but it’s okay._

Jack blinks a moment, Brock’s words gliding through his mind and he catches his mouth again, nipping a little harshly at his lower lip in retaliation. 

_Get out of my head._

Brock grunts but Jack can feel a humor in it.

Knowing he went by his own beat and was used to not taking orders by his Second, Jack slides one finger back inside of Brock and distracts him, easily slipping in another and then a third until Brock’s desperate and needy. He ignores the way Brock looks right then under him, flushed all over again and beautiful, something to _keep forever_ , to _possess_ and all _his_. He’s reminded that no one’s ever seen Brock this way before and he feels almost too proud over that. He kisses him hard, stubble raking across skin and Brock makes shrill noise as he projects how much he wants this, how much he’s ready.

Jack knows Brock’s eager for it, wants this but he asks if he is anyway, mind and body both excited and almost trembling in anticipation. He slides in slowly inch by inch when he receives a quick, though annoyed, nod; eyes glued to Brock’s face to pick up any discomfort. He’s almost overwhelmed with the tight, velvet heat; the pressure that’s already brimming inside of him officially pushes in an attempt to be his undoing already but Jack manages to keep it at bay for now. Brock only tightens around him, in every possible way, a bead of sweat rolling off his forehead as he stares back, a thin line of tension affixed across his brow from the discomfort of something more substantial inside of him though he says nothing and Jack refuses to move until that dull pain he feels emanating from Brock subsides.

“Brock?”

“If you don’t move soon, I’m gonna sever this bond with yer stupid ass. I can _feel_ your worryin’.” 

“I’m not worried.” Jack lies. He’s not even sure why he’s worried, usually he isn’t. 

“Then fuck me already.” 

Jack can’t help himself when he laughs at that, almost entirely pulling out before he thrusts back in and quickly finds a rhythm as he watches Brock’s eyes slip closed. It’s the moment he realizes he wishes to see them stay open so he can take it all in, that he enjoys staring into them when he can and that he’s always seemed to lose himself in the golds and copper. They’re colors that are so warm and Jack’s always felt like he belongs in them, he supposes he knows why now.

_You’re a charmer._

Jack frowns at that but lets it go when Brock’s eyes open and there’s that emotion again that pulses through the both of them like some desperate pull that isn’t quenched by what they’re doing, it’s endless and ongoing. It’s almost unbearable while focusing on having sex without hurting Brock, his own emotions entwining with his. 

_Stop stressin’ out. Ya don’t see me panickin’ do ya? Relax._

“I’m not stressing out.” Jack bites out, swallowing down a groan.

He knows he hasn’t found the right spot and he tells himself he wants to just so Brock will shut up and stop invading his mind. But he also wishes to, wants Brock to see the stars and feel it in every good way. He gestures for him to lift his hips, hastily sliding a pillow under and pushes Brock’s spread legs closer to his chest so he’s almost folded in half. This time when he thrusts Brock’s eyes go a fraction wider and he makes an incoherent sound like he’s choking. Jack does it again, and again and again to that same perfect rhythm. 

Brock drops his head back, arches as much as he can to get that dick as deep as he can, begs _more_ straight into Jack’s mind, fingers grasping wildly at the sheets as he keens to all of it. He can’t stop staring at the way Brock looks, writhing underneath him, tears prickling at the corner of glassy eyes and gasping for air at every given moment. His hair’s damp, plastered against skin by sweat and he’s beautiful. Jack can’t help calling him perfect and even _his_ and Brock flushes redder to the compliments. 

That reaction, the build up, the gathered pool of heat in his belly - they all push to make things worse because he wants to cum. The spikes of need climb along his spine but he can’t do it, not yet. He still wants Brock to have more, enjoy it longer and he shifts to carefully hitch one of Brock’s legs up higher so it settles on his shoulder and proceeds to drive into him that way. Brock’s entire being seems to fall apart with the first new thrust, fingers going lax and eyes squeezing shut as every taut muscle momentarily loosens and he cries out loudly, unexpectedly. Jack’s enthralled by it as he drives in deeper though it only makes him want to let go more. He just wants to keep Brock like this for all their days, shiny with sweat and lost in ecstasy. He can feel the way Brock’s mind is loosening, every sound outside only echoed within and directly into his brain. 

“ _Brock.._ ” He’s not sure what he wants to say after that, words escaping as those eyes stare up him. Instead Jack’s hand slips in between their bodies, wrapping around Brock’s aching cock and begins to stroke him off as he softly whines, relief flooding over him. _I wanna see you._ Jack sincerely admits, catching the momentary surprise in Brock’s brows before they smooth out again a second later. It’s almost immediate how fast their control mutually shatters and Brock finally lets go, cumming into Jack’s hand with choked sob and he realizes it’s the last thing that pushes him, one more hard thrust before he himself is reaching his own orgasm. 

He collapses after using as little energy as possible untangling Brock’s legs and there’s a small hum of appreciation he barely picks up in his haze. When his mind does clear a few minutes later, Jack realizes his nose is tucked in under Brock’s jaw, nuzzling the light scruff their unabashedly; his fingers curl into damp hair and they both stay that way, a sticky tangled mess with no words passing between them for as long as it’s humanly possible.

“What a messed up way to find out.” He finally says, thinks Brock agrees, that hum escaping from under him again as dull fingernails scrape down his back.

They don’t try to move, they just lay there in each others arms and orbit.

Brock sucks in a slow breath of air near Jack’s ear, a sigh. “Why the stars?” 

He swallows, thinks a moment. “Excuse me?”

“Why’re ya thinkin’ ‘bout the stars right now?” Each formation of Brock’s words brushes his lips to Jack’s ear and he’s unsure if he wants to keep close or pull away from it. He settles for burying his face away against Brock’s shoulder.

_I just do._

Brock’s hand presses lightly against the small of his back, reassuring and present. It’s confusing when Jack’s known him to be at least a little tactile with the team in his own way, but it’s never brought the feelings forth that he feels now. He’s unsure of if that’s good or bad, he knows a lot about soulbonds but experiencing it is so much more different than reading about it. 

“I know.” Brock interrupts. “It ain’t no picnic fer me either, especially when it unveiled itself like this. Been also wonderin’ how we’ve been in sync on the field under stressful shit all this damn time and not prompted it before.”

“It’s because I trust you out there on the field, it was natural to.” He finds himself saying without too much thought. He soon feels the pride radiate off Brock so strongly he can barely deal with it. 

“I was never worried, you had my back.” It’s a simple admission and Brock preens over it while Jack rolls his eyes, “Don’t let it get to your head.” 

“I ain’t, it’s jus..”

“Getting to your head.” 

“Right now I’m goin’ through _yer_ head.”

“You should stay out of there like I told you to.” He grumbles.

Brock only ignores him because it’s obvious if he really did want him to stop, he’d have done it already. Instead Jack feels the pressure of Brock’s mind pushing and poking around, he tries to take it all in stride despite the uneasiness sinking in about how he may react to what his prior plans were in its entirety before their connection. 

Brock moves carefully, checking this or that, searching for something. Flashes of memory playback between them, conversations and their general acknowledgment of one another. He tenses a little when Brock finds the threads of deceit, what he’d originally wanted from him but to his surprise Brock only chuckles and keeps him close still. He finally finds the images of himself laid out under Jack and covered in sweat, panting away with parted lips, body rolling with every thrust Jack gives and looking just as beautiful as he did when they were in the throes of it. 

There’s no doubt the spurned sensation of confidence and delight wafting around Jack is coming from Brock, a smile across his lips as he nodded to himself. “You really did enjoy it.”

Jack’s brows come together, “Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?”

Brock shrugs, can feel a sourness coming over him and he doesn’t like it one bit. Realizes he never wants him to feel that way again. “I think about the stars because it makes everything quiet down in my head when I’m thinking too much about things I shouldn’t be, like you.” 

It’s a curious thing when Brock Rumlow ducks his head away almost like he’s shy. There’s nowhere to go tucked under him so Jack only watches in amusement as Brock grumbles something under his breath before his face presses itself against awaiting shoulder. Jack may not be sure what he’s gotten himself into but his defenses are quickly receding from this new development and finds he’s slowly coming to the conclusion that he doesn’t care about much if it keeps Brock here like this with him.

Drawing in a breath, Brock stares again and he looks oddly vulnerable still, younger than he is as he frets on the next thing he wants to say and while Jack’s been allowed to wander through his mind, he hasn’t wanted to reciprocate it right away.

“What is it? Might as well tell me since maybe I won’t go digging into your head because I’m too tired for that but you know that I know when something’s up.” 

Casting his gaze on anything but Jack’s face, Brock finally focuses on the ceiling and now he’s curious. “You care if I stay? Not fer the whole night but I mean, jus a little while? Tryin’ to get a handle on all this mess and then I’ll get outta yer hair.”

Jack stares down at him until their eyes meet again, “If you stay, we’re going to need a shower first.”

“Yeah, no shit.” 

He rolls off and drops against rumpled sheets, staring up at the ceiling and visually tracing out the cast of light from the street lamp outside. He doesn’t need Brock here, he’d be fine if he decided to leave but he doesn’t want him to. It’s a slow reality though that if it was his choice, he’d ask him to never go and that thought is tucked away so deeply he hopes Brock doesn’t catch wind of it out of embarrassment to himself. “Is that why you really wanna stay?”

There’s silence between them. It’s comfortable but it lingers in a way, unspoken things that need to be cleared out and slowly adds weight to the situation. 

He hears Brock click his tongue in annoyance, dropping his head to one side and feels him staring. He drops his arm in between them and opens his palm out, a hand slipping over his almost immediately and they tangle together. “You can stay the entire night if you want.” 

Brock squeezes his hand, “I get nightmares sometimes but when I’m in yer head, I don’t see ‘em.”

“You just see the stars.” He concludes and Brock nods.

“I get nightmares too.” Jack mulls before continuing. “It’s not always..calm in there. I’m just really good at hiding it.”

Sleepiness is settling in and Brock yawns. It gives Jack a chance to linger over the way his nose crinkles when he does it, the way his hand comes up in almost a half fist ready to cover his mouth but never does. The gesture is so minor but he likes to look.

“We should shower.” 

Shaking his head, Brock rolls in, hesitant moves but he does nonetheless and despite immediate thoughts to repel him like he would have with any other lover, Jack only finds himself moving closer, arm drawing out further to let Brock curl in. It’s not very comfortable considering what they had just done but right now it’s okay. Right now he feels whole and it’s a curious sensation he’s never felt before that overshadows their laziness to get up.

Brock fits against his side nicely, head against shoulder, with Jack pulling him in closer and they settle after a blanket is tugged over them and Brock’s fingers trail across his chest. “Stay the night.” 

Tucking his face away, Brock’s lips press a firm line to skin. _Yeah?_

Jack’s running on fumes and instincts when he presses a kiss to the crown of Brock’s head and feels him relax. “Yeah.” 

When he finally slips into his dreams, it’s with Brock at his side. Mainly they find themselves in a clearing and it’s quiet; lacks the usual color of blood with sharp, jagged imagery as a backdrop that keeps him up some nights. He’s not entirely paying attention but he feels sure everything around them now is in muted greens and the sky holds a dark color of blue he’s always loved looking at. Mainly he’s focused on the way Brock is always staring at him and smiling faintly, finds and holds his hand; he’s never like his authoritative commander self here, he’s just _Brock_ and there’s something in it that Jack gets, a common issue they both rid each other of. 

He also figures out eventually through all of this, how less alone they both feel now.

Here together, they just have another way to be in each other’s space and while Jack is wary of the idea that the bad will come back in and take over, he always makes a point to be sure to show Brock the stars.

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing but Trouble - Phantogram. Look, I love them okay?


End file.
